United States or Israel ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"And, if I did, it wuddent be for the likes of no I-talian Dago, if id's him ye're a-dthrivin' at, not intinding anny disrespect to your friend, Mr. Richlin', and indeed I don't deny he's a perfect gintleman, but, indeed, Mr. Richlin', I'm just after thinkin' that you and yer lady wouldn't have no self-respect for Kate Riley if she should be changing her name."
He bowed blandly to the officer, stepped backward, touching his hat, and walked away, the policeman imitating each movement with the promptness and faithfulness of a mirror. "Aren't ye goin' to get in, Mr. Richlin'?" asked Mrs. Ristofalo. She smiled first and then looked alarmed. "I I can't very well if you'll excuse me, ma'am." "Ah, Mr. Richlin'!" she pouted girlishly. "Gettin' proud!"
The baker's wife stood with her immense red hands thrust into the pockets of an expansive pinafore, and her three double chins glistening with perspiration. She bade her manager a pleasant good-evening. Richling inquired how she had left her husband. "Kviet, Mr. Richlin', kviet. Mr. Richlin', I pelief Reisen kittin petter.
This seamstress had, moreover, a son of eighteen years, principally skin and bone, who was hoping to be appointed assistant hostler at the fire-engine house of "Volunteer One," and who meantime hung about Mrs. Riley's dwelling and loved to relieve her of the care of little Mike. This also was something to be appreciated. Still there was a void. "Well, Mr. Richlin'!" cried Mrs.
Ristofalo regained his financial feet almost, as one might say, at a single hand-spring. He amused Mary and John and Mrs. Riley almost beyond limit with his simple story of how he did it. "Ye'd better hurry and be getting up out o' that sick bed, Mr. Richlin'," said the widow, in Ristofalo's absence, "or that I-talian rascal'll be making himself entirely too agree'ble to yer lady here. Ha! ha!
Richlin'; indeed an' it is; and ye know mighty well that he ye're after joking me about is no more nor a fri'nd." She looked sweet enough for somebody to kiss. "I don't know so certainly about that," said her visitor, stepping down upon the sidewalk and putting on his hat. "If I may judge by" He paused and glanced at the window. "Ah, now, Mr. Richlin', na-na-now, Mr. Richlin', ye daurn't say ud!
Richlin', you sen' for yo' wife, you can't risk change o' business. You change business, you can't risk sen' for yo' wife. Well, good-night." Richling was left to his thoughts. Naturally they were of the man whom he still saw, in his imagination, picking his jailer up off the door-step and going back to prison.
Richlin'; and I'm sure ye'll be glad a heap gladder nor I am that in that case he's to be Captain Ristofalah." "Indeed!" "Yes, sur." The wife laid her palm against her floating ribs and breathed a sigh. "I don't like ud, Mr. Richlin'. No, sur. I don't like tytles." She got her fan from under her handkerchief and set it a-going. "I nivver liked the idee of bein' a tytled man's wife. No, sur."
He was in bed some days, and was robbed of much sleep by a cough. Mrs. Reisen found occasion to tell Dr. Sevier of Mary's desire, as communicated to her by "Mr. Richlin'," and of the advice she had given him. "And he didn't send for her, I suppose." "No, sir." "Well, Mrs. Reisen, I wish you had kept your advice to yourself." The Doctor went to Richling's bedside.
Reisen," exclaimed Richling, warmly. "you speak as if you didn't want her to come." He contrived to smile as he finished. "Vell, of course! You don't vant her to come, do you?" Richling forced a laugh. "Seems to me 'twould be natural if I did, Mrs. Reisen. Didn't the preacher say, when we were married, 'Let no man put asunder'?" "Oh, now, Mr. Richlin', dere aindt nopotty a-koin' to put you under!
Word Of The Day